


Chrysalis

by uumuu



Series: The shores of life [1]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cuiviénen, F/F, Grooming, Kissing, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-30 02:34:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6405301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uumuu/pseuds/uumuu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Míriel slowly recovers from her illness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chrysalis

**Author's Note:**

> Set in the same verse as [Alopaynay](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5652928)
> 
> Inspired by the AU square (number O62) in the B2MeM 2012 Femslash card.

“Thank you,” Míriel said with a small smile, pulling the towel Yúlië had used to dab her dry even tighter around herself, still pleasantly warm after her evening bath.

Yúlië gave one last brush to her hair, making sure it fell freely over her shoulders, followed by a sloppy kiss on her forehead that made Míriel giggle. She put the comb away and lifted the washbasin from the bedside rug, setting it back onto its stand. 

Míriel watched her from her perch on the bed as she went on to rearrange the scattered items on the night table.

She still felt weak, but the crushing weight which had borne down on her body as much as it had on her mind after her son's birth wasn't there any longer, and the thought of getting out of bed, of seeing people and talking to them didn't frighten her to the point that all she wanted to do was burrow under the blankets and disappear.

She had regained her appetite too, and savoured each of the delicacies her family and friends regaled her with to the last bit.

“...I hate the thought of having been such a burden to all of you...for so many years,” she said under her breath, shuffling her feet on the rug. 

“A burden? Never,” Yúlië denied firmly. “None of us wanted to lose you, and I less than anybody else...even should I have waited a whole century, or more, for you to heal.”

“Still –” 

“Here.” 

Yúlië pulled out a new garment from a small bundle, a long gown with very long, wide sleeves.

Míriel raised her eyebrows. “This –”

“It's a present from your apprentices.”

Yúlië held the gown up in front of her and Míriel put her right hand out, touched it, hesitantly at first, as if wary of contact, then let her hand glide up and down it more confidently, to test the quality of the fabric. It was smooth and wispy, light golden in colour save under the shoulders, where a large shape had been embroidered into it. 

“Tussar,” she whispered, tracing the stitched outline the moth which gifted them that precious fibre.

She opened her left hand and let the towel fall from her shoulders. She propped herself on her mattress, took a deep breath and pushed herself up. Yúlië kept a close eye on her, ready to support her at need, but Míriel steadied herself and stood on her own feet. She held her arms out and Yúlië slipped the sleeves onto them, then folded the gown over her chest, her hands brushing lovingly over her skin. She pulled the right fold first, tucking her breasts inside it, and then the left. Holding the gown closed with one hand, she reached towards the nightstand and retrieved a long cord. It was a simple braid, with woollen strands in three colours: red, grey and black.

“Your son made this,” she said, as she wrapped it around Míriel's waist twice. “Your aunt is teaching him how to use a spindle.”

“I want to teach him to work with yarn!” Míriel protested, in a clear tone to which a hint of her stubbornness had crept back. 

Yúlië secured the knot with a large bow, grinning. “Of course.” 

Míriel looked down at her body, assessing how the gown fell around it, luxuriating in how smooth and cool the fabric was against her skin. She remembered how she used to spend day after day surveying the moths' cocoons to collect them just after the larvae had left them.

“I want to –...I want to go out tomorrow. I want to see the forest...and the lake.”

“We will do that.” Yúlië hugged Míriel to herself, seized by a tingling happiness to see her so eager to live again, then kissed her, allowing herself to linger and be a little bolder with her tongue than she had been in recent times. Míriel didn't flinch, but remained slack in her hold, so she prolonged the kiss a little longer still. “And once you feel well enough, we will make love on the lakeside, as we used to.”

Míriel nodded, nuzzling her neck and murmuring “I love you,” against her skin.

**Author's Note:**

> Tussar is the name of a type of silk (which can be made without killing the larvae inside the cocoons).


End file.
